Six Inches
by iWatchtv
Summary: Sometimes life and death are only a foot away. Sprinkles of Tiva and McAbby. Spoilers for Semper fi episode.
1. Prologue

**Note**: Short little prologue/teaser. Just wondering by me when i was bored and all i had to entertain me was a pad of paper and pen. Fun stuff. Anyway, i have actually planned out this entire story, gonna be 5 chapters plus epilogue and prologue. Don't worry. I don't kill of Tony. Not in this chapter who's excited for the season finale? I am! :D ...even though i'm like 80% sure that they leave Ziva in tel aviv. Anway. Read and review peeps. and i'm on twitter. remember that.

**Prologue**

Rivkin exhaled sharply as he drew the shard of glass from his side. His eyes moved from his own glistening blood to the NCIS agent scrambling across the floor. With his hand clenched painfully around the handle of his improvised dagger he slowly took a step towards the downed agent. Their eyes met as Rivkin rushed forward for his final charge.

In the Israeli's eyes, Tony saw the same fierce determination he had seen emanating from Ziva hundreds of times. Any hopes he had of taking the man alive evaporated.

With a final and desperate surge of effort he reached for the Sig which he had dropped earlier in the fight. As his fingers wrapped around the grip, he swung his arm forward to face his attacker.

Three rounds. A cluster to the heart.

The life immediately left Rivkin's body and he crashed to the floor.

At that moment, the door flew open to reveal a frenzied Ziva. Her eyes flew between Tony and her lover.

"What have you done?" She hissed, eyes narrowed.

Tony lowered the weapon his reflexes had trained in his partner. His gaze moved to his chest; his eyes focused on the glass shard protruding from it.

He attempted to speak, to vocalize those last witty lines that heroes always seemed to utter before they fell.

Instead, the strength rushed from his body, and the world went black.


	2. Chapter 1

**Note: **For the record, I just want to say....I was right. I WAS SOOOO RIGHT. They DID leave Ziva in Tel Aviv. Either it was in the note for last chapter, or I thought it. And also with the season finale(Which was awesome, better than all the other spring finales. But then again, thats not saying much. Bones and House finales especially sucked) , this story officially becomes AU because the writers didn't read my prologue and change the entire series. Whatcha gonna do. My prediction for next season: The guy who played the mummy tells NCIS Ziva has been captured. Not big, but it's my prediction. Anyway, This chapter should be twice as long, but i cut it in half so I could post more frequently. Read and review.

Chapter 1

Abby's arrival was heralded by only the quiet swish of the hospital doors.

She moved towards the slumped form of McGee occupying an uncomfortable waiting room chair.

"McGee," She whispered.

His eyes fluttered open in response.

"What?" He mumbled as he attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"Where is he?" The Goth asked almost timidly.

"Who, Rivkin or Tony?"

Anger flared briefly behind the forensic scientist's red rimmed eyes.

"Obviously not him," She spat. One deep breath and the anger was gone.

"I meant Tony." She answered, her voice raw.

McGee nodded. He should have expected that reaction from her. Honestly, he had been unsure who Abby was asking about. Tony, to insure the agent's well being, or Rivkin, to kill him herself.

He nodded.

"Right, of course. He's in the ICU. In the West Wing, second door down. He's unconscious and you can't go in, but you can see him through the glass."

Abby nodded her thanks as she headed in the direction McGee had indicated.

Out of the corner of his eye, McGee saw Ziva exiting the door that led to the East Wing, surgery, he noted. Abby saw her as well.

Both watched the Israeli lean against the wall for a moment, visibly shaken, before walking towards the exit.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Abby's voice called after her, halting the other woman in her tracks. "You know, Tony? Your partner?"

Ziva turned to face them and, for the first time that night, McGee clearly saw her face. She was paler than he had ever seen her. Her olive skin now seemed ghostly, almost eery under the flickering fluorescent lights.

She eyes moved between her two friends. She didn't respond.

"You cold heartless bitch!" Abby screamed, drawing stares from the hospital staff and patients. Ziva flinched. With each word, she seemed to shrink in on herself.

"You don't know what he did for you. He lied for you, he hid evidence for you, and you don't even car. Instead I'm sure you were hovering around Rivkin, tending to his every need."

"Michael is dead." Ziva responded quietly.

"Well good. Then he got what he deserved." Abby glared fiercely at the Israeli. Ziva's eyes listlessly gazed back. She lowered her head and turned away.

Without another word, she was gone.


	3. Chapter 2

**Note:** I was originally going to call this chapter 1.5, but i suppose chapter two works better. Not much else to say except that i'm already missing NCIS. Can't wait for fall. And I hope that NCISLA is pretty good and I'm hoping that the original team will have some cameos. Thanks for all the reviews and feedback you guys. It's awesome. It's also the reason i'm trying to update more frequently. Hopefully the next chapter will be longer, as the past three have been more like intro/transition from the episode. rnr

Chapter 2

Abby whirled to face McGee, eyes blazing.

"How can she be so calm? Tony, her partner, is fifty feet away dying! And she couldn't care less!" Abby fumed.

"Abby, Tony's not dying, I don't think. The doctors did say he was stable." McGee said.

"But she doesn't know that! She didn't even ask!"

McGee was silent. She had a point. Tony did shoot a Mossad officer in her apartment, but still...not even bothering to inquire about his condition? At the least, it was odd. At worst, it made her seem like the cold hearted bitch she was occasionally accused of being.

"She must have a reason Abby." As he said it, McGee tried to find a plausible motive behind the Israeli's behavior. He couldn't

"Well it had better be a damn good one." Abby spat before storming away, scattering hospital personnel in her way.

McGee sighed. Ziva was obviously in turmoil. Some one had to talk to her, some one had to get her to open up, to help her get through the events of tonight. And since Tony was currently unconscious, that some one might as well be him.

He slowly got up and moved towards the exit. Suddenly, Gibbs appeared beside him. His eyes were bloodshot, and simply looked tired.

"Ziva?" The older man asked.

McGee nodded.

"Go to Abby. She'll need you. I'll take care of Ziva."

"Whatever you say boss." McGee said, trying and failing to hide the relief in his voice. He followed in Abby's footsteps and disappeared around the corner to the ICU.

Gibbs quickly stepped into the parking lot, closing in on Ziva's cooper. He slid into the passenger seat as the engine roared to life. Ziva narrowed her eyes in response to the intrusion, but said nothing.

"Where're we going?"

She shrugged.

"I know a bar a few blocks away. Should still be open." He suggested.

Again, she said nothing, but drove in the direction Gibbs had indicated.

A short and silent few minutes later, they arrived at the bar. As they walked towards the entrance, Ziva tossed Gibbs her keys,

"I will not be needing these." Was her only response.

Gibbs shook his head. It was going to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 3

**Note:** I've been unable to update for a while. Let's just say that there comes a time where all the things you procrastinated are due in the same week and that trying to procrastinate it again just doesn't turn out well. Not fun. Anyway, this is chapter 3, inspired by reading other fics and listening to the NCIS soundtrack( which is awesome) and I managed to write without succumbing to the urge to just start writing other ones because I had way to many ideas. I'm so proud of myself. Anyway, read and review. And help me hope that for some reason NCIS will come back in July. Which it wont. Which saddens me.....

:(

Chapter 3

Ziva slammed her fifth empty shot on the bar. She glanced disdainfully at Gibbs' single half empty beer.

"I thought you marines knew how to drink." Her words laced with a barely detectable slur, they were the first she had spoken to him that night.

Gibbs shrugged and took another shallow sip.

She fell silent once again as the bartender filled yet another for her.

"I know what you are say." She said finally, "You are going to ask me why I am not with Tony. You are going to tell me that I should support him, tell him it is going to be alright, even after he shot my..." She faltered, " my lover."

Gibbs kept silent, staring straight ahead.

"You are going to say that despite everything, he is my partner. That what he did, misguided or not, was based in some foolish assumption that I needed help, that I needed saving, like I was a damsel in disguise."

She paused, massaging her forehead with one hand, cradling her alcohol in the other.

"It is just so difficult Gibbs. One part of me hates him, needs to hate him. A part of me can't hate him, can never hate him, no matter what he does. And yet a third part wants it, everything to go away, to just leave and live in a world where the last month never happened."

She looked at Gibbs, gauging his reaction. There was nothing to gauge. She took a deep and shaky breath before continuing.

"It is easy for you to understand. Tony is good, and Rivkin is bad. But it is not that black and white Gibbs. I cared for both of them, do care, for both of them, differently. Michael was charming, he was sweet, amusing. That, and he had done things. Horrible things. Things he spent most of his life running from." She laughed humorlessly, "I suppose we were alike in that respect."

She motioned for another from the bartender. The hapless employee glanced at older man beside her for confirmation; he nodded. Ziva was handed another shot.

"I do not know if I loved him, but I do not know I did not love him. And the fact I will never be able to find out which is torturing me."

She heaved a heavy sigh.

"And Tony...Tony is my partner. He is loyal to you, to NCIS, almost to the point of naivety. The fact that he broke that trust in an attempt to warn me is just...I am conflicted Gibbs. Too conflicted to think, too conflicted to act. It is easy, so easy, to just sit here and do nothing. To act as if nothing else exists and 'drown my sorrows' as your American movies say."

Gibbs finally turned towards his agent, eyes examining her carefully and slowly.

"What I would be trying to figure out Ziva," He began, "Is not what you should do now, but what you would have done if you had found Rivkin your apartment standing over Tony's body."

Ziva froze, glass halfway to her lips, the possibilities churning through her mind.

"I think that the answer to that question would help you decide what you should do now." He added before returning to his beer.

This was most definitely not what Ziva had been anticipating from Gibbs. Maybe a lecture, yelling, arrogance that he knew the difference between right and wrong, Tony and Michael. BUt what he had said...It did resonate with her, caused the defenses she had built up around the situation, to crumble. It forced the hate at Tony, at the world to ebb.

It forced her to think.

What would she have done? Would she have helped Michael hide the body? Called NCIS, called Gibbs?

Myabe, just maybe, she would have attacked in a fury, on instinct, the way she had shortly before their run in with the Secretary of the Navy.

Would whatever bond she shared with Rivkin have been strong enough to withstand him killing her partner? her colleague?...Her Tony?

Would she have been as conflicted as she was now, unable to cope. If that were the case, then the universe had a sick sense of humor, placing her in a situation in which every outcome destroyed a part of her.

Gibbs stood up, tossing a few dollars on the counter.

"I'll be in the car. Come out when you find the answer." He said.

Then he left, leaving Ziva alone with her thoughts.


	5. Chapter 4

**Note:** It's been a while, I know. This is chapter 4, obviously, but doesn't really have the whole Ziva/Tony confrontation (i think) most of you have been waiting for. Just some Abby/McGee and some background for the next chapter. Oh, and some irony. I really like irony. Just something about the fics i've been reading is that some of them have the entire team feeling betrayed by Ziva. I'd just like to point out that the whole 'ordered to shoot Ari' thing was information provided by none other than director Vance. And he's been so truthful in the past. That's all I'm saying. The fics are really good, but I personally believe that anything Vance says should be taken with a grain of salt. Whatever that means. I'm not good at old people speak. Anyway, read and review. I enjoy reviews almost as much as Irony. :)

Chapter 4

Abby leaned forward until her nose was pressing against the glass of the observation room.

Tony lay in the bed, chest swathed in bandages.

She sighed, not turning as she heard footsteps behind her.

"Look at him McGee, he looks like he is just sleeping."

"Um, Abby, he is just sleeping."

Abby slammed her fist against the glass.

"NO McGee! He's unconscious because he just got out of surgery to fix the glass shard that mossad bastard plunged into his chest. There's a difference." The tears she had been holding back began breaking through her defenses.

She felt Tim's arm wrap around her waist.

"It's all going to be alright" He whispered in what he hoped was a reassuring voice, inwardly wincing at the cliched phrase.

"You know, if this were a movie, Tony would wake up right now and be fine." Abby muttered. She stared expectantly at the downed agent, their injured friend.

Tony didn't move. The only sound was the monotone beeping of the hospital equipment. It was not what she had been hoping for. She heaved another sigh.

"But this is real life. Reality doesn't always go for sappy endings with happily ever afters." She felt McGee chuckle behind her.

"What's so funny?" Abby turned her head, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Nothing," McGee replied in a soothing voice. "Just an inside joke."

Abby snorted.

"Sure McGee." She turned back to Tony. "Oh, and can you do me a favor?"

"Anything Abbs."

"If you write a book about this, give it a happy ending."

McGee smiled.

************

Gibbs patiently waited; eyes occasionally scanning the lot for Ziva.

This situation was rapidly becoming a Gordian knot. The relationship between Tony and Ziva had become intertwined in the relationship between NCIS and Mossad, and thereby in the relationship between America and Israel. If they couldn't resolve this, there could be global ramifications. Or perhaps he was just becoming paranoid in his old age. Regardless, the only relationship he truly cared about was the one between his agents. But even that relationship alone had become severely entangled and knotted by Rivkin's death. He just hoped he wouldn't have to use a sword.

His thoughts were interrupted by Ziva.

She slid into the driver's seat, angrily slamming the door shut. With equal force, she threw her cell on the dash.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"Bad call?"

Ziva ignored him. A few seconds later, they were pealing out of the parking lot.

"Hospital?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes." Ziva answered sharply.

"Tony?"

She paused before answering. GIbbs could almost feel the fury building around the Isreali.

"No. The morgue."


	6. Chapter 5

**Note: **Sorry about my lack of updating, I've been hospitalized with an acute case laziness complicated by writer's block. The doctors weren't very optimistic at first but now they think I may have a chance. Right now I'm going through intense physical therapy and I hope to be completely recovered by 2015. Anyway, I really have been feeling guilty about the whole "Not updating for 6 months thing" but I think I should be able to update more frequently now. In other news, that Paris episode? Damn.

Ziva perched herself quietly on an autopsy table facing the body that used to be Michael Rivkin.

Uncertainty had become disturbingly common for her in the past few days. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised that here it faced her yet again. She could not decide whether to beg forgiveness for her failures, scream with frustration and beat the unfeeling flesh before her or simply murmur the sentiments of her love to a man who could no longer return them, and who perhaps never did.

The possibilities were as limitless as they were pointless.

So she resigned her self to inaction.

In her head, the words of her father replayed themselves in a continuous loop impervious to her wishes, each repetition as biting and as cold as the original. A part of her mind was still trapped at that bar, cellphone by her ear; surrounded by cigarette smoke and cheap beer.

"Father, Michael is dead." Those had been her first words. She had needed to know what his first reaction would be, perhaps it would tell her something that would make the situation clearer, make her decisions easier and bring back the certainty that had been her guide for years.

It didn't. Life can be a bitch that way.

"That is unfortunate." He replied slowly. "I know you cared for him Ziva."

She paused. Such an answer was to be expected but she had hoped otherwise, maybe an explanation, not the simple condolences one would expect from a stranger.

"I suppose the question is how much he cared for me."

"I'm apologize, but I am afraid I do not understand."

"Why did you send Michael here, father, to America?"

"He was the agent best suited-"

"He was one of dozens who were suited for this mission." She interrupted, "There must have been a reason why you chose him. Did he ask for this assignment?"

"Of course he did Ziva, he wanted to see you, and I had no objections." He replied easily.

"That is a lie." Ziva hissed, "Michael told me that you chose him specifically, even took him away from his current mission to send him here. You have not been a father to me for a long time. I had hoped you could at least tell me the truth."

"Very well," He replied, his voice losing all pretended warmth. "I sent agent Rivkin to both eliminate the terrorist cell as well as to reaffirm your own personal loyalties to the Mossad. Two birds with one stone, as it were. I believe efficiency is what has fueled my success all these years."

And what had made you such a terrible father, Ziva thought bitterly.

"So that was all I was to Michael, a mission to survey the viability of an agent?"

"Michaels thoughts and feelings were his own. I simply knew that you would confide in him more than any other agent I could have sent. Perhaps another reason was that I had become aware of your growing relationship with Agent DiNozzo, this was simply to remind you who truly mattered and insure that you had not been compromised. It was MIchael's task to assess the situation."

"And what did Michael's report of me reveal?" She spat.

"Nothing. He never sent one, and if he did, we never received it. Is that all you require Agent David?"

"Yes, Director."

She resisted the urge to fling her phone away from her, an ugly reminder of her father's manipulation. But then again, he had made it clear he was no longer her father, but her superior. Excellent.

Another silent drive with Gibbs had brought her back to the hospital, and back to him.

And so she sat. Uncertain, the woman who had spent most of her life in a world of black and white, friend and foe, watching silently as everything she had believed to be true fell apart around her.


	7. Chapter 6

**Note**: See??? I told you I would update more frequently! And I did. I would think of somethin funny or interesting or witty but it's like 1 in the morning for me and I'm pretty beat/loopy right now. Oh yeah, and i just wanted to clarify something. Rivkin is in the morgue, but not the NCIS morgue nooooo he's a sneaky bastard. He's at the hospital morgue. Because thats where ambulances take people. to the hospital, then they die, then they go to the morgue, and theeeen they mail him to NCIS. So in this chapter, while taking place at more or less the same time as the previous, is in two different places. I didn't want people getting confuse, because that would be bad. alright so now just read and review. I mean please read and review. Oh yeah and this is the chapter which explains the title of the story which i know has seemed a little random so far.

*****

Gibbs watched Ziva's departure impassively. Once she disappeared from view, and he was sure that scattered hospital staff she had left in her wake would recover, he slid into the drivers seat grabbing the keys that had been forgotten in her anger. He nearly reached for her cellphone as well, but quickly thought better of it. Some things were better left alone.

A short drive later, Gibbs arrived at NCIS headquarters and quickly made his way to the morgue. There, as he had expected, sat Ducky studiously poring over several X-Rays and CAT scans scattered across his desk.

"Ah Jethro!" The medical examiner called as he noticed his old friend approaching. "I didn't quite expect you to be here for a while, what with poor Anthony in such a state. I would be at the hospital myself, however, Director Vance requires my expertise on an autopsy of some importance. In the meantime however, a friend of mine from the sent over several charts and such concerning our young agent. He is quite lucky you know."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"Lucky, Duck?"

"Yes, according to his records, the shard of glass entered his chest, glancing off the sternum and puncturing his left lung."

"I'm no doctor, but that doesn't sound very lucky to me." He observed wryly.

"Yes well, it isn't so much as what happened, as what didn't. Had Rivkin stabbed him, say, six inches to the left, it would have punctured his heart. I am afraid that a wound such as that would have likely resulted in sudden and instantaneous death. On the other hand, had the glass struck half a foot to the right, it would have missed him entirely. There seems to be a curios case of symmetry to it if you ask me. Actually, it reminds me of an experience I had in Africa in my youth..."

Gibbs let his mind wander a bit as the medical examiner continued his anecdote. He hadn't needed any reassurance that DiNozzo would recover, the man was too stubborn to succumb to something as trivial as death. No, his true worry was Ziva.

The young woman had witnessed the death of her lover at the hands of her partner, the man who she had trusted to watch her back for the past three years. Trust like that did not come easily to anyone, especially a veteran Mossad Agent. Whether Tony had acted in her best interests did not matter, all that mattered was how she perceived his interference. Not shooting him was a positive sign, but still...

And as if her psyche was not under enough stress, she then had been forced to confront her father about...something.

No, he hadn't looked at her phone, but conjecture was something very different, and very acceptable. He had been an investigator before she had ever held a gun, which was saying something and from what he could tell, there were only a few people that could throw Ziva off balance. One was in the hospital and the other was in Tel Aviv.

He just hoped she would be able to cope.

"And then the guide said, 'Well at least it wasn't my camel!'." Ducky finished laughing. "Oh dear, I haven't thought about that trip for a long time. I had forgotten how amusing brushes with death could be."

Gibbs smiled. Then paused.

"Do you remember the psych evaluations you did for my team Duck?" He began, revealing the true motive of his visit.

"Of course, I wouldn't have trusted them to anyone else. Did you know that they wanted to fly in that young man from Los Angeles do to them? As if I couldn't handle a few simple psychological evaluations. In hindsight I may have been a bit to melodramatic in my protestations."

"I wouldn't expect anything less." Gibbs paused again, debating with himself. "Is there anything I should know about Ziva?" he finally asked.

Ducky smiled a sad little smile.

"I wish I could help you, but as you are loyal to your fellow marines, I must grant my patients the same loyalty. Anything I am told in confidence, must remain in confidence. Secret, I'm afraid, even from you Jethro."

Gibbs nodded understandingly and turned to leave.

"But," Ducky continued, "Between two old friends, our Ziva is a strong young woman, she wouldn't be here if she weren't. Even so, she is confused, about her loyalty and perhaps her own motivations of why she does what she does. She simply needs time to sort her new ideals from the old; and a little support from her friends wouldn't hurt. Never fear Jethro, I'm sure she will be back to 'kicking ass' ,as Anthony would put it, in no time."

"Thanks Ducky." Gibbs replied, the ghost of a grin playing on his face.

"Semper Fi Jethro."

"Semper Fi."


	8. Chapter 7

**Note**: Here we go with yet another chapter. I thought we'd catch up with McGee and Abby, you know, for old times sake. This is more of Abby trying to deal with her anger, and I know a few of people from previous chapters, the ones before the *ahem* hiatus, thought Abby was being way too hard on Ziva, but honestly, she did lie and do things you're not really supposed to do to your friends. Sd there's that. Last weeks NCIS was alright, a couple good TIVA moments and hilarious Gibbs and Fornell interactions. Screw LA, Fornell should have his own spin off. Right, it's late again, I'm rambling. I shouldn't do this so often but it feels oh so right. Anyway, this part isn't important, go forth and read and possibly review.

*****

The flickering fluorescent lights that seemed to be mandatory in all hospitals illuminated the slumped form of one Special Agent McGee.

He awoke with a start, looking around quickly to get his bearings. The power nap had been had been longer than he had anticipated. How long had it been? Days? Months?

A glance at his watch showed it to be a little over two hours, not as bad as he had feared. He stuck his head out into the hallway and spotted Abby by a nearby vending machine.

He quickly hurried over to her.

"Hey Abbs, what're you doing?"

"Waiting...just waiting." She sighed.

"Yeah, sorry, I guess I kinda overslept." He smiled wryly.

"I wasn't waiting for you McGee, I'm waiting for Tony to wake up."

"Oh right."

"I mean someone has to be here to greet him back into the land of the living. Gibbs disappeared, I saw _her_ heading towards the morgue to cry over that bastard." Abby spat with a venom that McGee was unaccustomed to seeing in the normally bubbly forensic scientist.

On the other hand, Gibbs disappearing, Ziva leaving to mourn Rivkin's body? How much had he missed?

"Abby," He began quietly, "You eventually are going to have forgive Ziva, or at least be a little more understanding."

Abby turned towards him, hatred gleaming in her eyes, McGee took an involuntary step back. The emotion seemed alien on a face generally filled with joy.

"Are you really defending her?"

"Abby..."

"She was Kate's replacement no one ever said anything, but I knew, and I hated her for it. But eventually, I moved past that. McGee we were her friends, her family! We gave her a home, we trusted her. Then, after three years, another Mossad agent struts in and it's as if the past we've shared with her never happened! She lied to us McGee! She violated our trust for him. But even then, I could have forgiven her, I really could. And then she chose Rivkin over Tony.

"How are we supposed to react to that? She left Tony bleeding on the ground while she rushed to the side of the man who had nearly killed him. And as far as I know, she is still there, except now he's dead. It helps, but not much."

She finished her tirade by violently kicking the machine which still hadn't given up its trove of generic snacks.

McGee was honestly just glad she was lashing out at it, and not him.

"I'm not going to ask you to look at it from her perspective, but at the very least, try to understand her. She was raised around Rivkin, and people like them. An entire life of loyalty to the Mossad, it couldn't be overridden by few years with us. On emotional level, she has always been Mossad. I'd like to think that mentally, she became one if us, and once this all dies down, she'll be again. She'll come around Abby. Besides, we're more fun than Mossad could ever be." He grinned. She didn't quite return it, but McGee thought he saw a glimmer of one.

She was silent for a moment before letting out a long sigh, and with that sigh, she seemed to expel her anger as well; it left a drained and woman dreading the possible loss of two of her closest friends.

"How do you know Tim? How do you know she'll come back to being NCIS Ziva instead of Mossad Ziva?"

McGee threw her one of those knowing grins he was known to show on occasion. It was infuriating.

"Call it my gut. And if you're still hungry, the cafeteria should still be open. Go, I'll stay here for Tony."

Abby nodded and headed in the direction of the elevators.

Before she rounded, she looked over her shoulder.

"If your'e wrong about this Timmy, I'm gonna kick your butt."

McGee nodded solemnly. Abby was going to be alright. Except that now he was worried just a little bit about himself.


	9. Chapter 9

**Note**: Another long break between chapters, sorry about that. But good news, it's summer which means more free time which means more writing which means faster updating. I hope. Regardless, here is the next chapter in Six inches, basically more exposition on Ziva's state of mind. What can I say? I love developing characters. Or trying to. Also, This update has been delayed for a bit in part because I was writing some original stuff which I will shamelessly plug here. If you get bored and want to read some of my original short stories, you can check out my tumblr because I couldn't think of anywhere else to put stuff. I'll put the link in my profile. Anyway, here is chapter 8. Hope it was worth the wait. Or you know, part of the wait.

Ziva's legs began to gently sway back and forth in the open air.

She couldn't reach the floor from the gurney and the motion was comforting to her. It reminded her of a time when she had been safe.

It reminded her of breakfast.

Sitting in the large, they had seemed large to her anyway, dining room chairs as her mother industriously cooked away. She and Tali would smile at each other across the table and promptly steal food if the other wasn't paying enough attention.

Her father, pushing her and Tali on the swings in the park near their house. The same park where years later she would cradle her sister's broken body.

With her feet off the ground she felt the remnants of the sense of security she had as a child.

Her gaze shifted from her feet to the corpse before her. There was no nostalgia, no fountain of memories that could tide her over through the years. There was pain, but even stronger than the pain was the sense of guilt.

She had been...content with Michael, but never joyful, no emotion close to those she treasured from childhood. With Michael it always seemed as if her life was following a predetermined path. Live Mossad, love Mossad, Die Mossad.

Since the moment they had met, a part of her assumed she would eventually become Ziva Rivkin. Not in the romantic sense, there was no doodling of hearts around their names, no trees in Tel Aviv bore their initials, it was simply a fact.

A cold, hard fact.

At the time it seemed real and warm and altogether not so bad. But now, as Rivkin's body cooled she could feel her emotions doing the same.

It was the way she had been raised. Accept grief, come to terms with it, and leave it behind. Emotional baggage was deadly in her line of work.

Except her experience with NICS had proven to her time and time again that these 'useless' emotions were sometimes the only thing that separated them from the killers they hunted. What was the point in killing one terrorist at the cost of five innocent lives? And if the benefit outweighed the cost, where did it end? One terrorist per ten innocents? Twenty? One hundred?

She knew she had changed, however it was not a neat evolution of her personality. The past three years had torn her in two, the merciless assassin and the compassionate defender of the law. Only now did she realize how they had been fighting for supremacy.

Rivkin had been the last thing anchoring her to the past. Tali was long dead, her father no longer anything but a superior, he had been the only thing she had been unwilling to let go.

And now she sat before his corpse.

Ziva dropped silently to the floor and turned for the door.

She had died with Rivkin, not all of her, and certainly not the best parts, but she had died all the same. The Ziva whom new recruits (and more than a few veterans) marveled at in hushed voices, who had been the most feared operative in the Middle East, the legend, was gone.

In her place was a woman, flesh and blood and fallible. She now had something to lose and lost time to make up for.

"Good bye Michael..." Ziva whispered as she flicked off the lights.

She strode away without looking back, the automatic doors sighing behind her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Note: **So I've probably said this before but this time I mean it, we are nearing the end. a couple more chapters and we're done. One confrontation with Tony, one with Abby and the story is all but over. Unless I put in an epilogue or something. So what to say...oh yeah, can't wait for the new season, cliffhanger was awesome. Oh yeah, I'm hoping to get a few more one shots from last season, I had a few ideas but all the free time i did have to write I put into this fic. Regardless, I'll try to put some new stuff up soon. In the meantime, Read and review. I love reviews. They are awesome.

McGee studied his fallen partner through the observation room glass. Tony's chest was swathed in bandages but besides that, he looked alright. He was pale, then again they all were. Even Abby seemed unusually drained, goth makeup aside. The last few days had been hell and no one was even close to being in top form. Talking with Gibbs earlier, though it may have been the lighting, the silver fox's hair had seemed almost white.

McGee leaned forward to rest his forehead on the cool glass. As he did he caught the ghost of his reflection in it. The bags under his eyes had gotten worse in the ten minutes since he'd last checked, if that were possible.

He chuckled to himself. Now that he though about it, Tony probably had it better than the rest of the them. While they fretted and worried, trying to keep the team from splintering, he lay there in his drug induced nap, doubtless dreaming of his countless conquests, perhaps even reliving them. He'd enjoy that.

Of course he had been stabbed. He deserved the break.

A few incomprehensible mumbled words drew McGee's gaze down to the sleeping forensic scientist beside him. Despite the fact there were a few chairs in the room with them, she had elected to sit on the ground, back to the wall and knees drawn up to her chin, head lolling occasionally from side to side.

He'd been tempted to join her, but if they both slept through Tony waking up, he'd probably end up in the hospital himself. Or the morgue.

His reverie was interrupted by the faint sound of combat boots on tile.

Ziva.

He knew the mossad assassin could come and go silently when she wanted. She wanted them to know she was coming. She wanted them prepared.

He turned to face the open doorway.

A shadow lingered outside it for a moment, as if hesitating, before Ziva finally appeared.

He hadn't seen her since she had left with Gibbs. She looked...honestly she looked better.

The harshness evident in her since Rivkin had come into town was gone. She looked softer, more like the Ziva that he had come to know in the past few years.

"Hello McGee." She spoke slowly, as if she hadn't used her voice in too long.

"Hi" He replied. Tony would have had some snappy line, something to make her laugh and break the tension at the same time. Unfortunately, he was only McGee. Not exactly a master of conversation.

Ziva glanced towards the sleeping Abby.

"I'm sorry." She said finally. "I know it is not enough to satisfy Abby, but it is all I have. I hope you could understand, maybe explain to her..." She broke off letting her eyes fall to the ground.

McGee crossed his arms and studied the woman before him. This was not what he had expected. He knew there were only two options for her, NCIS and Mossad, but he'd be damned if he could tell which she had chosen. Was she really going to leave like this, leaving him to pick up the pieces and explain to the others why there was now a hole in their team?

He shook his head, attempting to displace the cobwebs that had taken residence there. So this was what it was like to be a team leader. At least now he knew why Gibbs' hair was gray.

"Are you...?" He trailed off, not wiling to ask the question mainly because he didn't think he would be able to handle the answer.

"Am I leaving?" She almost laughed until she saw the fear on her friends face. "No McGee. I am not leaving. I have no where to go."

She paused before hastily continuing, "Not that I would want to go anywhere else of course."

McGee grinned for the first time in far too long.

"Oh thank God. Because I thought that...you know."

"Yes McGee, I know." She smiled back.

Beside him Abby began to stir. McGee glanced down at her then back at Ziva.

"I'll try to calm Abby down, she can be a little.."

"Emotional." Ziva supplied.

"Yes. No promises, but hopefully in a few minutes she won't try to kill you on sight."

"I appreciate it." The former assassin turned to leave.

"Ziva,"

She paused without turning.

"I can talk to Abby, but you owe Tony a personal explanation."

Although the room was silent, he could barely make out her response.

"I know."


	11. Chapter 11

**Authors Note**: Sorry I haven't been able to update for a while. I'm not technically allowed to say what I've been occupied with, but lets just say flux capacitors are not very resilient and that I may or may not now be 37 times older than the universe. Anyway, I toyed with the idea of this being the last chapter and leaving the Tony/Ziva meeting ambiguous because it's common knowledge that the reader's imagination is always better than anything the author can write. I am, of course, using the term 'author' loosely. But if you guys want another final chapter, let me know and I will be happy to oblige. I do feel bad about updating, but I was pretty busy over the summer and then I felt the new season was way too Tiva light. Until of course last weeks with no less than two call backs to 'undercovers' and at least one to 'boxed in', two of the (In my opinion) best NCIS episodes of all time. So yeah, that jump started my writing. On to the good stuff now, chapter 11. It's been a while coming. Read and review.

Tony opened his eye and squinted against the bright light before him.

So this is Heaven, that's a relief. He had tried to be a good person, but there was always a fifty-fifty chance. Well forty-sixty, counting college.

"Tony."

A silhouette loomed in front of him.

"Tony."

The voice didn't sound very angelic, in fact it sounded like McGee. Either he wasn't dead, or eternity was going to be hellish.

He closed his eyes.

"Tony!" The voice grew alarmed. "Are you okay?"

"No." His voiced rasped a bit.

"What's wrong?" McGee asked urgently. Hmmm McGee guilt. This could be useful.

"Your face is six inches from mine. And you need some gum." Tony grunted. He knew it was hilarious, even if McGee didn't appreciate it.

"Har har." The younger man said as Tony sat up. "I don't know why I was worried about you. Your sense of humor is to warped to die."

Tony winced as he tried to settle himself. Getting stabbed hurt, who knew?

"Insulting the patient, very nice McGee."

"McGee!" An appalled Abby scolded from the doorway. "He was just stabbed! Do you have no decency?"

"But he- I mean-" She ignored his stuttering and descended on Tony.

"Tony, you poor thing. I would hug you, but I know you got the whole stabbed thing going on. But believe me, I'm hugging you in my mind" She said, squeezing her eyes shut for emphasis.

Tony smiled. As much as he hated the hospital, waking up to friends like these made it worth it. A nurse with very nice...eyes entered and began fiddling with the machines to his right. Why did he hate hospitals again?

A dull throb began growing in his chest. So she had lowered his morphine. And there's the hate.

"Uh Abby, how'd you get in here?" McGee finally managed to stammer "The nurse outside told me he could only have one visitor at a time."

Abby opened her eyes and smiled carnivorously.

"I don't even want to know." He mumbled.

"Good answer." Gibbs added from the doorway.

"Am I really the only one who pays any attention to rules around here?" McGee sighed to no one in particular.

"How many times have you hacked into the FBI data base?" Abby retorted. He mumbled something unintelligible.

Tony scanned the room, smile faltering.

"It seems like almost everyone is here except for our resident Israeli." Abby shifted uncomfortably and Gibbs remained stoic, as always, but McGee knew something. He had those shifty eyes. Shiftier than usual anyway.

"McGee, would you like to share with the class?"

The younger man blinked.

"She may have stopped by earlier while you were...sleeping. Now that you're awake, I'm sure she'll show up eventually."

Tony nodded, internally flinching. He knew his actions that night would have consequences, he hadn't anticipated the stabbing of course, but still. He should probably be grateful she hadn't killed him. That didn't stop the pain that had nothing to do with his wound.

Affixing a fake smile with practiced ease, he changed the subject.

The conversation continued easily for a few hours between the friends, but despite the distraction Tony couldn't shake the shade of stalking his mind.

After the nurses has banded together to force his team out, he lay staring at the impersonal bleached ceiling of his room. He had killed her lover, presumably destroyed their relationship, for what? The logic had seemed so concrete such a short time ago provided no asylum.

One unsettling thought accompanied him to his restless, dreamless sleep.

Was it worth it?

"Faster McGee! I could have walked to my car by now, and I can't walk!" McGee rolled his eyes. Why had he volunteered to take Tony home? Was it guilt? He wasn't the one who had stabbed him. This time.

"McGee! Let's double time it come on. Only another hundred feet."

"Well maybe if you didn't weigh so damn much I'd be able to move you without dislocating a vertebra."

"Oh boo hoo McWimpy! Andale!" Tony shouted, enjoying the five mile per hour wheelchair ride more than he should. McGee meanwhile struggled behind him.

After reaching the car in twice the amount of time it should have taken, thanks in part to impromptu attempts at wheelies, McGee leaned against the side of his car for a breather.

And promptly fell in surprise as he realized some one had beaten him to it.

"Oh uh...Hi Ziva. I didn't see you there. Sitting on my car. When I could have used some help getting Tony over here."

She smiled, eyes never leaving said wheelchair bound senior agent.

"And miss out on the entertainment McGee? I do agree, however, that you need a break. I'll take Tony home. It is the least I could do."

"Alright so is your car nearby or..." He fell silent once he realized neither was acknowledging him. "Oh look I forgot my uh...watch in the hospital. I'll go get it." He said loudly and to no effect before hurrying to the safety of the building.

Once behind the reinforced glass he chanced a look back. She was slowly wheeling him towards her mini cooper, talking softly while he had dropped his overcompensating childish glee and seemed more relaxed than he had been in weeks. It wasn't until he'd seen them apart he realized how well they went together.

"McGee!" He whirled to find Abby behind several get-well balloons, black of course. "Don't tell me Tony left already. Wait, I thought you were taking him home, where?..."

She looked past McGee and trailed off. He followed her gaze.

Tony had reached the car and tried to stand but listed to the side. Ziva rushed to support him.

McGee looked back to Abby who now stood beside him. She seemed to wilt before his eyes.

"Are you still mad at her?" he asked carefully.

She let out a deep breath, eyes watching Ziva and Tony together.

"No. I don't think so." She sighed, slumping against him, head resting on his shoulder. "I'm so tired. Lets just go home."

McGee smiled.

"Yeah, it's about time."

"Hey McGee?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's your watch?"


End file.
